


Mind and Mettle

by Imminent_Em



Series: Dogged Chase/Faded Trail [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, F/M, Longing, Romance, Self-Loathing, Slow Burn, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 01:28:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20368378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imminent_Em/pseuds/Imminent_Em
Summary: A cold wind howls around her, drowning out the doubts and fears that would crowd her mind. She sees her prey, bares her teeth. There is no other way forward, no way back. No escape.





	1. Chapter 1

_ “_Fucking Atom, Valentine!”

Piper tossed the remains of her cigarette away irritably and with remarkable accuracy, more or less catching it in the bowl on the table. She knocked her hat off its perch on her head, scrubbing her hands through her hair. “I mean, what the fuck, Nick? A fucking _ Courser _?”

Nick stayed as unruffled as he could in the face of the reporter’s ire, hands tucked casually in his pockets. “C’mon, Pipes. You've got better words than that in your vocabulary, I know it. Why don't you use some of them?”

Piper glared at him from across the room, leaning her elbows on her knees. “Don't ‘Pipes’ me, Nick. And stop trying to change the subject. This is a terrible - no, a catastrophic idea.” She jabbed a finger at him accusingly. “And you know it too! Otherwise you'd be talking me down already.”

He lifted a brow. “Maybe I'm just waiting for you to run out of steam.”

A snort escaped her. “Right. Because that's how you _ always _ handle people.” 

He sniffed, adopting a mock-affronted air for her. “It is sometimes. Just not with you.”

There was a flash of teeth from Piper’s corner. “True enough. I take it as a point of pride to never get diverted from my object.” Her eyes narrowed. “So, again, Nick. What the fuck?”

He spread his hands, placating. “It's the only way in.”

“That this Virgil is telling you of!” she snapped. “For all you know, he's just trying to get rid of you by sending you after the cold-blooded killing machine!”

“You don't know that.”

“No, I don't. And you know what? You don't either!” She sat up straighter, hands fidgeting. “There could be a dozen other ways in that we don't know about! You're just taking him at his word, Nick. Since when have you ever done that?”

Nick frowned. “I don't trust the man, if that's what you're worried about. But I do believe him.”

Piper’s gaze was fierce, her tone flat. “Why?”

Nick shifted, uncomfortable for reasons he couldn't possibly divulge to Piper, good of a friend as she was. He settled for the simplest answer. “Because Nora believes him. And I trust Nora. Woman's got good instincts.”

Piper lowered the hackles a little, settling back. Her look, however, didn't quite let up. “So Blue’s convinced.” The fingers of one hand tapped against an arm. “I guess all that time together this winter paid off, huh?”

Nick looked questioningly at her, tamping down the feelings that crowded up. She sighed and shook her head. “Don't worry, Nick. It's not just you. She's got one of those faces, I guess.” Piper stared at the ground in silence for a second. “This is insane, Nick.” She looked back up at him. “You can't let her do this.”

That hit far too close to Nick’s own feelings. He tried to shrug it off. “Not sure anyone _ lets _ Nora do anything.” Piper’s snort was seconded in his head. He walked over to her, dropping into the chair next to the couch. “Honestly, Pipes, this is probably it.” He could feel her eyes on him, and had to resist the urge to return the gaze. “We’ve been overturning quite a few rocks. This is the only lead we’ve got.” He finally looked up. “Maybe if we waited another year, or five, something better would turn up. But we can't just bide our time with this.”

Piper chewed on her lip, but her eyes were understanding. “Not with Blue’s son on the line, is what you're saying.” Nick let his silence be the answer. Piper sighed. “I guess I wouldn't be able to wait, either.”

The quiet deepened into something companionable, then. Piper was still frowning, fiddling restlessly with her hat. A stray thought tugged at Nick until he opened his mouth. “Say, Piper,” he started. She looked up, the lines of her brow smoothing a bit. “How did you know what a Courser is, anyhow?”

She grinned suddenly, the expression bright and sly and smug all at once. “Why Mister Valentine,” she drawled. “Did I finally beat you in a game of information gathering?”

Nick chortled. “No such luck, Pipes. I've been looking into the Institute a lot longer than you. But I am curious,” he added, leaning in. “Took me a solid decade to hear the term, and a good while after that to find out exactly what it meant.”

Piper nodded. “It was a hunt, all right. Either nobody's got a clue what you're talking about, or they know and they're too damn scared to tell you a thing.” She chewed on her lip some more. “To be honest, I got really lucky.” 

Nick waited, patiently; Piper eventually sighed. “Good God, if you must know, I spent several years searching fruitlessly. Then, out of the blue, one of the people I talk to pretty often?” Nick didn't miss the quick glance Piper threw towards the doors as she lowered her voice. “He comes to me, tells me he's got a friend in the Railroad.”

Nick sat back in his chair. That was a turn he hadn't been fully expecting. He couldn't quite keep the surprise from his voice, but at that point, he didn't care. “You've got a contact in the Railroad?”

A flash of her earlier smugness resurfaced before Piper pulled a face. “Not really. My guy asks his guy my questions, and if I'm really, _ really _ lucky, maybe I even get one of them answered.” She shook her head slowly. “The Railroad is no joke when it comes to secretive, Nick. From what I _ do _hear, they're remarkably paranoid. Of course, maybe that's why they've been a thorn in the Institute’s backside for so long. But it's sure a pain for my reporting.” 

Nick felt his mouth quirk up into a grin. “And I'm sure that's at the top of their priority list.”

Piper spared him a scathing look before kicking her feet up onto the table. “Laugh all you want, Nicky. At least I'm finally getting somewhere.” She slipped into a frown again. “Although, I’m getting a bit worried.”

Nick cocked his head to the side. “Oh? What's wrong?”

She rolled her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. “I'm not sure, Nick. It's just - well, I haven't heard from either of them in a long time.”

“Maybe it's just the season?” Nick suggested. “The weather was pretty nasty this year.”

“I don't think so.” Piper slid down a bit further into the couch. “He's usually pretty good about checking in, seeing if I need anything. And I haven't heard from him since mid-autumn anyway.”

“Doesn't sound good,” Nick muttered. 

Piper threw her hat at him in a sudden motion. “Jesus, Nick, would it kill you to say something encouraging for once instead of muttering forebodingly? I know it doesn't sound good, why do you think I flipping brought it up?”

Nick ducked, easily catching the hat and tossing it back to her. “I'm sorry, doll. But what do you expect me to do? In case you hadn't noticed, I've kind of got my hands full with Nora’s case.”

Piper rubbed at her face. “I know, I know.” She let out an explosive sigh, dropping her hands to her lap. “I don't expect you to do anything, really. _ I _just don't know what to do. It's driving me crazy.”

They were quiet another few moments, then Piper spoke up again. “Nick?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re going to come back from this, right?

That startled him into looking up. She was staring at the ground, hair, curled around and shielding most of her face from view. Her hand were clasped tightly together, elbows on her knees. “What’s eating at you, Pipes?”

“Nothing, just - I know you go out hunting for trouble a lot. But nothing like this. This is...danger on another level.”

“Piper -”

“Just come back, okay?” She still didn’t look at him. 

He leaned back into the chair, trying to ignore the tightening in his chest, the terrible feeling of being pulled in different directions. “Sure, Piper. Sure.”

* * *

_ “Oh my God,” she exclaims. It’s a whisper of breath, a soft automatic exhalation with little behind it. “Is this…?” _

_ “Yeah.” He stops beside her, stares at the looming overpass, the dark stone buildings beneath it. “Edge of The Glowing Sea.” He points. “That’s Glowood, an old Minuteman outpost. Hasn’t been manned in almost forty years,” _

_ “It’s…” _

_ “Impressive?” _

_ “Yeah.” _

_ “Biggest outpost the Minutemen had, besides the Castle. Became too much for them to man. It’s still the safest place I know to enter the Sea.” _

_ She looks at the sun - or rather, the point in the sky that is more white than grey. “Are we spending the night here?” _

_ “That’s the thought. Buildings should still be safe enough.” _

_ “And the rads?” _

_ “We’re clear still. We might have a storm tonight, but the outpost was built just inside the safe zone.” _

_ She hitches her pack a little higher. “Good enough for me.” _

_ They start towards the buildings, and the wind flows around them, rustling in the dry leaves. The sky is a steely grey, backlit by the nearly invisible sun. It looks like it dearly wants to rain. _

_ Before them, above them, the buildings echo with an eerie, sephurcharal silence. Windows gape in the grey like missing teeth, doorways locked and barred against entry. It is a ghost town, in every sense of the phrase. Distantly, he remembers the last time he was here, passing through with the Minutemen muster south. The recollection is sharp as he handles it, too real, too present as these buildings glare down at him, just as they did then. _

_ He steers her towards the central building in the compound, just off the side of the road that runs through it. She picks the lock with little trouble, although the roof of the small porch shields them from any helpful light. Inside, it is dusty, empty, drab. A lonesome wind breathes through the walls, whispering and winding against them. They climb unsteady steps that creak and complain under their weight, and find themselves in a small room. A window overlooks the road. Against the far wall is a beaten excuse for a desk, a broken typewriter perched on top - perhaps this used to be an office. Above it, a worn and tattered flag, blue almost invisible against the charcoal stone. _

_ They settle in for the night, shuttering the window most of the way. He takes first watch, as is becoming his custom. The weeks of travel are rough on her, though she tries to hide it. She is short of breath, her skin persistently pale and wan, her eyes dull with exhaustion. It is too difficult to watch her force herself to stay awake longer, when she can hardly stay up long enough to eat. _

_ She curls up in a corner, and he is left to the evening, the grey skies that fade to indigo, the clouds that clear, the stars that rise. He watches the change through the shutters, an eye on the Sea-ward side of the outpost. Every so often, he catches a glimpse of movement, there and gone. Nothing comes closer than the outer buildings. _

_ The night slips on. He can see the time on her PipBoy, propped up against her pack. He should wake her for her watch. He decides not to, lets her sleep another hour, despite his own weariness. Tomorrow and the days to follow will not be kind to her. It’s kinder to let her rest now, while she can. _

_ Not for the first time, he wonders what he’s doing here. How he ended up agreeing to this, to letting her wander into the most dangerously irradiated place he knows. Even as he wonders, he knows the truth. Knows he couldn’t possibly have stopped her. Knows this is their only lead, her one road to finding her son. Knows he couldn’t leave her side if he tried, not while she needs him. _

_ But the view outside is still foreboding, and dark warning to all who would enter. He has brought her to a wasteland, and they’ll be lucky if they survive. _

* * *

Nick found Nora sitting at the far corner of Power Noodles, picking at her bowl listlessly. Most of the evening crowd had filtered away, leaving her nearly alone at the bar. The bright lights pooled in distinct patterns, leaving a swath of shadow every few feet. The night was crisp, cold and clear. The stars shone above with an uncanny brightness, unhindered by the usual cloudy skies that accompanied spring. Everything felt a little bit sharper. It was the perfect night for hunting. You would be able to hear a pin drop out in the city, and know what direction it was in, too. Almost a shame they couldn't take advantage of it. But Nick knew there were worse things in the ruins than ghouls and rabid dogs. An ambush was an ambush, whether you were prepared for it or not. 

He shook the train of thought off as he joined Nora at the counter. She looked exhausted. Fighting the constant bombardment of the Glowing Sea’s radiation was part of it, he supposed, but there was a weariness that had been accumulating, too. It was less about her physicality, and more about her mental presence these last two weeks. She’d been quiet, on-guard over their journey here. Of course, if he was honest with himself, he had been too. The news they’d brought back wasn’t the really kind you could celebrate.

She glanced up as he sat down on the stool next to her, then re-focused on her ramen bowl. “How’d the chat with Piper go?”

He grunted. “Not swell, if we’re being transparent.”

That caught her attention. “Why? What’d she say?”

He waved his hand. “A lot, as usual. That wasn’t a surprise.”

Nora leaned in closer. “But can she help?”

“I don’t think so.”

Her eyes were piercing. “She can’t? Or she won’t?”

Nick shrugged. “A bit of both.” Nora continued to eye him, and he held out his hands. “She’s got contacts that she isn’t going to burn, alright? No matter how much you hold her feet to the fire. And she’s not exactly the strongest in a stand-up fight, you understand?”

Nora ran her hands over her face, dropping her head to stare into her ramen. “Yeah, I get it. She doesn’t want to go after the scary murder machine. It’s probably the most sensible decision being made here.”

Nick shifted on his stool. “And she has her sister to look out for. I think she wants to help, but to be honest, there’s not much she can do here.”

“So where does that leave us?”

Nick tapped his fingers on the bar top. “We go out on our own.” Nora raised an eyebrow at him, and he held up a hand. “I know, I don’t like it either. But think about it - no one else is going to want to risk their lives for this, for _ you_. It’s too hard of a gamble. Piper’s not willing, and she _ likes _you, more than she’ll admit. Hell, we’ve done some questionable enough things together, and she’s never once batted an eye. Anyone we ask who’s trustworthy or worth our time is going to refuse, for the same reasons Piper did.”

“The same goes for you, Nick,” Nora said quietly. “You’ve got a life here, people who care about you. By all rights, you should back out too. Before it’s too late.”

That stopped Nick in his tracks. Nora stared into the full bowl of ramen, pushing the chopsticks from side to side with a finger. He swallowed reflexively, unsure. “Do you want me to back out?”

“No. But I wouldn’t blame you,” Nora said. She sighed and folded her arms on the bar top. “This is a lot to ask of anyone, you’re right. Probably too much. And you’ve done so much for me already. There’s no way I can possibly repay you.”

Nick held up a hand. “Let me stop you right there, Nora. This may have started as a case, but you’re my friend now. I care too much about my friends to just leave you out to dry.” He hesitated, just for a moment. “And besides. I told you I’m not leaving your side. You aren’t getting rid of me that easily.”

She looked up at him, and finally nodded. “Alright then,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

“Come on,” Nick said, breaking the small silence that threatened to grow and signaling Takahashi over. “We’ve been on the road long enough. It’s time to get you horizontal.” The robot clomped his way over, and Nick pulled a string of caps from his breast pocket, tugging one off. “One for the road, Taka.”

Nora waved a hand. “No, I already paid.”

“It’s a deposit for the bowl.” Nick stood, gathering the ramen as Taka sucked up the cap. 

“I don’t need - “

“You do,” Nick said firmly. “We’ll go to the office and you can finish it there.” She frowned a bit, but the expression was halfhearted, and she didn’t argue. 

Nick waited for her to stand and gather her pack. She slung her rifle over her shoulder in a slow, pained movement, and they started walking. As they left the quiet, steady bustle of the city center, Nora seemed to melt, sinking into herself out of sheer exhaustion. Her feet were dragging, and she looked ready to pass out against the nearest wall. He chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment, torn, then swapped the ramen bowl to his other hand and offered Nora his arm. 

She stared at his arm for a long moment, as if she had forgotten what the gesture meant. He felt another flash of doubt. “Come on, Nora, don’t leave me hanging here. You’re dead on your feet.”

Nora gave her head a little shake, like she was trying to clear it, then carefully reached out and looped her arm through his. They started walking again, and after a few steps, she began leaning on him. They walked together in a comfortable silence - perhaps a bit slower than before - until they finally reached his office. The neon sign was off, as it should be when he was out of town for long periods of time. He reluctantly disengaged himself from Nora to fish his key out of a pocket, and shouldered the sticky door open. 

It was dark inside, and faintly musty. Ellie must not have been in since they’d gone to the Sea. He didn’t blame her. He’d been gone so long, he’d be surprised if he still had a business after this. He set the ramen bowl down on Ellie’s desk and swept up the oil lamp they kept by the door. It took a moment of rummaging around in her desk drawers, but he eventually found her stash of long matches. 

Nora wandered in behind him as he lit the lamp, light suddenly swelling and casting shadows around the small room. “Go ahead and throw your things next to that couch,” he said, moving the lamp to a small side table. “It’s the closest I have to a guest bed.”

She nodded, setting her things down and slowly lowering herself onto the couch. Nick busied himself with lighting Ellie’s little hot plate and setting the bowl of tepid ramen atop it. With that done, he started rifling through the papers on his desk, looking for the maps he had of the greater Boston metro area. He hadn’t used them in a while, but they had to be - there. 

Nick set the maps down on the couch next to Nora and pulled up a chair. “Way I figure it, we’ve got a couple options,” he started. “There’s no telling where or when a Courser will show up, and we can’t expect them to play on demand for us. This might take a while.”

“More waiting, Nora muttered, almost to herself. “We can’t try to cover the entire Commonwealth, that’s far too big of an area.” 

“My thoughts exactly.” Nick traced out sections of the city on the map with his finger. “I want to avoid the entire waterfront and airport area for as long as we can. It’s real ugly there, and the only safe place to stop is Noland - which is living in the shadow of a certain airship at the moment.”

“Wait, no-land?” Nora asked. “What is that?”

“Sorry. Old settlement, just off the airport. Built on the water, out in the harbor.” He smiled faintly. “So yeah, no-land. They’ve got a lot of boats, do some trading up and down the coast, so the town’s a big hub for those that can get out there. Areas gotten worse lately, though. They’re pretty isolationist. One of the last to join the Minutemen, and the first to leave. If there’s one thing you can depend on out here, it’s that Noland will keep to themselves.”

He moved his finger to another section of the map. “I think our first option would be to cover the area around the Commons and Goodneighbor. We can use Goodneighbor as a base to comb through the downtown. But,” he said, moving his finger to another point and tapping. “I think this is our better option. University Point.”

Nora leaned in closer, her curls tumbling around her face. “Is that in Cambridge?”

“It is. Right next to the ruins of CIT.” Nick leaned back in his chair. “Now, University Point used to be a town, thriving little community. About ten years ago, they were wiped out. No warning, no survivors. Everyone assumed it was a deathclaw, but just before that, there were whispers that the town had found and killed a synth. And a couple years later, it suddenly becomes a hotspot of gen-2 sightings.”

“You think the Institute killed the town in what, retribution?”

“Could be. Or maybe they found something out from the synth before they lynched them.” He shrugged. “Or it’s a load of crock. But it’s a place to start.”

“No, it makes sense.” Nora scrubbed at her brow with the heel of her hand. “You told me it was rumored that the Institute was started by the survivors of CIT. It seems right that they might still use the area as a base on the surface.”

“More whispered than rumored,” Nick admitted. “And only by a couple people, a long time ago. But I always liked the theory.”

“It’s a good theory.” She frowned at the maps again. “Alright. Let’s start at University Point, work our way through Cambridge, and if we still don’t have anything, we can head toward the Commons.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Nick said, perhaps a little too brightly. A dark feeling had been creeping over him as they planned, but he pushed it down. He shuffled the maps back into order and tossed them onto his desk. “We can get an early night and be out tomorrow.”

“How long is it to University Point?”

“A day or two. Depends on what’s hanging around in the way there. But never more than that.”

“I should stock up, make sure I have enough for a week or two.”

“_Tomorrow,_” Nick said pointedly. “You need your rest. Running yourself ragged won’t do anyone any good.”

Nora huffed out a sigh, slumping back onto the couch cushions. “You’re right, I know.” She glanced around, as if noticing how empty and quiet the office was for the first time. “Where’s Ellie?”

Nick grunted. “Home, I hope. Or out with a friend.”

“She doesn’t…?” Nora trailed of questioningly. 

“What, live here?” Nick chuckled. “Thank God, no - although I’m sure she’s wished she did sometimes. She can get pretty wrapped up in her work.”

Nora paused, a half-smile on her lips. “You care about her a lot, don’t you?”

Nick smiled, without even realizing it at first. “I suppose so, yeah. She’s…she’s like the kid sister I never had. Although I doubt she feels the same about me.”

“Why do you say that?” There was a sharp look in Nora’s gaze. 

The question caught Nick off guard, and the gears in his head ground to a halt. “I…” He faltered, then shrugged. “I don’t know; deflection, I guess? Hell, Nora, it doesn’t mean much of anything.”

“It means enough,” Nora said. She looked down, fiddling with her gloves on her lap. “Means you have people out here who care for you, people you’re pretending not to notice.”

There was a moment’s bitter silence; Nick opened his mouth, unsure of how to respond, when Nora cut him off, speaking quickly. “I’m not trying to guilt you, Nick. But I feel like you spend a lot of time unintentionally pushing people away. And…I don’t know.” She scrubbed at her face. “It just feels wrong to say things like that the night before we go out and potentially get ourselves killed.”

Nick grunted. “Noted.” He sighed, suddenly feeling drained. “I’ll go stop in and see Ellie tomorrow morning, let her know where we’re going.” Nora looked up, faint surprise flickering over at his words. “You’re right. It’s habit, but that doesn’t mean it’s a good one.”

“We all do it at some point or another,” Nora said quietly. “I know I have. But I also know how it felt to be on the receiving end.”

“Your husband?” Nick asked, curiosity prickling. 

“Yeah. Nate…” She shook her head. “He was different when he came back from the front. More distant. He pushed people away without even realizing it, and it made him all the worse when things got bad. It’s like he was building up a wall in his head, and all I could do was shout over it.”

“I’m sorry,” Nick said softly. 

“It’s fine, really. It was just what you said earlier, at Power Noodles. About how no one would want to help, because they all have people to look out for, or who are looking after them. And when I asked about you, you sidestepped the question. It got me thinking that you don’t see it, how much people care about you.” She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, looking off to the side. “And I thought, maybe someone should tell you.”

Nick cleared his throat. “Thank you, Nora. It…it means a lot.”

A bit of color rose in Nora’s cheeks, flushing out the pale skin. “Anytime, Nick.”

He floundered for a few moments, before the faint scent of broth and noodles reminded him of the heating ramen. He busied himself with retrieving it from the hot plate, setting it down in front of Nora. “Here, I almost forgot.”

She shook her head. “I think I’ll pass, get an early night instead.”

Nick stilled. “_Nora._” She stopped at his tone, looked up. “You need to eat.” He waited, but she made no move to touch the bowl. “Please.”

Her mouth screwed up like she wanted to argue, but she said nothing. He held her gaze for one moment, a second, a third; until she finally withered under his glare, shoulders slumping. She looked down at the bowl on the table, innocent and steaming invitingly. “Okay,” she said softly. “Okay.”

Nick felt himself relax as she took one bite, then another. He sat down on the couch next to her, finally feeling the miles of tension and worry bleed off. He hadn't felt so overwhelmed, so exhausted, in a long time. He settled back into the cushions, rubbing at his jaw with his good hand. But they were home. They were safe. And, Nick supposed, that was all he could really ask for.

It took her nearly thirty minutes before she finally stopped, abruptly setting the bowl back on the table and pushing it away. It was still half full. 

It was the small victories, Nick supposed, as he cleaned up for the night and left Nora to get some rest. Half a bowl was better then nothing. One lead was better than none. And a partner by your side was better than going out alone into the unknown.


	2. Chapter 2

_ She wakes in the dead of night, retching. The bile burns her throat, her nose, calls up unpleasant memories. She is on her hands and knees, spitting and shaking, tears plopping to the concrete floor, empty of everything, save exhaustion. _

_ A hand rubs her back, a light touch that traces tentative circles. His low voice is soothing, even in her haze. “Third time?” _

_ She nods, slumping back on her heels, curling in on herself. “Has to be the food. Pills keep me from absorbing the rads. Didn’t think about the food. Or the water.” She draws a hand across her mouth. The taste on her tongue is sour and metallic. “Didn’t think we’d be here this long.” _

_ “I’d hoped we’d be gone by now,” he mutters. His hand stops moving, the weight of it growing. “We need to get you out of here.” _

_ “No.” _

_ “Nora-“ _

_ “Not without Virgil.” _

_ There is a stubborn silence. He slouches back against the wall, golden eyes glittering reproachfully. A cold spot grows on her shoulder from the absence of his touch. She pulls herself up, rolling onto her makeshift bed, presses against the welcoming chill of the wall opposite. The damp, crumbling hallway echoes with the things they leave unsaid. _

_ He finally looks out, into the into the inky black. “We’ll hurry, then.” _

_ “The Children of Atom said he was less than two days from their camp.” _

_ “So three more to get out.” _

_ “Assuming he’s there.” _

_ “Then that’s four more days in the Sea.” _

_ “The pills will stretch more than that. It’s fine.” _

_ “You can’t keep eating that food. It’ll just keep making you sick.” _

_ “Then I won’t eat.” _

_ He stops, his eyes darting back to hers. He takes a long time to answer. _

_ “You'll still need water.” _

_ “I'll crumble up some rad-away and mix it in.” _

_ “It's a long time to go without food.” _

_ “Not so long. I've heard of worse out here.” _

_ “Even still.” _

_ “I'll be fine.” _

_ He fidgets for a few moments, his long fingers tugging at something small. “I don't know if I can carry you out. If...things go badly.” His voice is very quiet. _

_ “You won't have to.” _

_ “If you're sure.” _

_ “I am.” _

_ He huffs out a tiny breath, eyes closing. “Well alright, then.” _

_ “Alright.” _

_ She slips back down, weary to her bones. The floor is hard and cold, but her geiger counter has stopped its frantic ticking down here. And that's enough. A soft wind moans further down the tunnel. _

_ She is close to drifting away when he says, “Whatever happens, I won't leave you.” _

_ She curls into herself tighter. She'd open her eyes but she doesn't want him to see how wet they are. “Thank you, Nick.” _  


* * *

Long after Nora had gone to sleep, pale and limp on the old worn couch, Nick was still awake. He was restless, his mind turning and poring over recent events and information endlessly. Like he would discover something new. Like if he thought hard enough, he might be able to stop this madness.

He ended up perched in his smoking spot for the winter months; sitting on the top stair, the door to the roof cracked open. It was peaceful, pleasant. Good to be home. He could just hear the faint sounds of the city winding down for the night, while the breeze blew through the set of chimes hung by the door. He was on his second smoke, reveling in the gentle warmth that spread through his chest with every breath. With its gentle caress, slipping down his throat, through his artificial lungs, he could almost imagine he was alive again. And that by itself was a pleasant enough endeavor, if bittersweet.

Nick absently tapped the ashes off the end of the cigarette, lost in thought as he watched Nora sleep. He could just see her past the stairs, the soft shapes of her just barely illuminated in the dim light. It was unnervingly comforting. That feeling of dependance on her presence was still so raw he hardly knew what to do with it. The logical, sensible part of Nick insisted that he ignore it, shut it away before he wouldn’t be able to let go at all. But for all that sense, he couldn’t help himself. He was enamoured, happy to bask in her company, no matter the awful circumstances.

That feeling was at least something to cling to, a balm after his visit with Piper. Her fear for them had been palpable, although she would be hard-pressed to admit it. He had tried to quell that fear, but she hadn’t bought in. She was far too smart for that. And with every hour that he sat in the dark and quiet and thought and smoked, her words, her unspoken fears burrowed deeper under his skin. Maybe this was a fools’ errand, an easy way for Virgil to dispose of the only people who know exactly where to find him. Maybe there was no chip, no way into the Institute for them. Maybe they were going to set out tomorrow and never come back.

An awful, sick feeling spread over Nick like a shroud. Without prompting, the image of Nora intruded into his thoughts; she was broken, bleeding, eyes empty. Like so many other unfortunates Nick had come across in his time in the Commonwealth. That horrible razor sharp memory of his helpfully supplied image after image, of mangled corpses, bodies beaten and abused, burned and curled into a rictus until they were utterly unrecognizable as human. He rubbed wearily at his eyes, trying to force the images out, to no avail. They lingered, festering in his head and heart.

But that wasn’t it. Not quite. There was a horror there, the worry that he wouldn’t be able to protect Nora. But beneath it….

A distant, confused memory surfaced slowly. White walls, stretching endlessly on. Light was blue and harsh, azure and soft. Voices spoke in an endless murmur all around him. He had no body, but there it was, limp and unmoving, leaden and wrong. He could see everything and nothing, lost in the blinding sea of white.

A nameless dread caressed his spine, reached its tendrils around his heart. He looked down and realized his cigarette was shaking - his _ hand _ was shaking, scattering tiny motes of ash onto the step below. There was a buzzing, a ringing in his ears, and he fought for air, desperate though he knew he could go a while without.

Another drag, swimming in the smoke and heat for a brief respite. That was it. That was the terror that lay in him like a frozen, cracking lake. More than losing Nora, more the burning again - that was what he feared. Going back.

He could sense how easy it would be, too. He had heard of recall codes, in his long years digging into the Institute. Their claws were still in him, all too ready to sink in and drag him back. Sure, they’d thrown him out once before like last week’s garbage, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t change their minds. It was all too easy to imagine a faceless Courser reading off a string of senseless numbers, to imagine watching helplessly as it was his hands that turned on Nora, that threw her against a wall, drained the life from her.

Or perhaps he would just forget, wiped clean until they had a use for him again. Nick honestly wasn’t sure which was more terrifying. To imagine all that he had done and fought for, all that he’d made his own - gone, in an instant, like it - no, _ he _ had never been. Bad enough to be screaming inside, caged in your own head. Maybe it was worse to just be…gone. His stumble with a much younger Amari so many years ago still haunted him. An entire month, wiped in the blink of an eye, all due to the Institute’s lingering touch. It was hard to shake them with their code still worming its way through him. And all that time that had slipped away…perhaps the next time he wouldn’t be so lucky. Next time it might be two months, or six, or a year.

That was the first time it had truly hit him, when he’d woken up lost, to Amari’s explanations and apologies. The first time he’d realized what he was. The enormity of his fake skin and metal bones had crashed over him, leaving him in a pool of his own shame and crushing depression. There was no other word for it, really. Nothing else to describe the absolute helplessness, the knowledge that this wasn’t something he could fix or change. He would do anything to avoid falling into that pit again. Anything to avoid the deafening blankness cast over his memory. To avoid white walls and helplessness.

Nick dropped the remains of his cigarette into the ashtray and pulled out another. Lit it, watched the bud flare as he pulled in a breath, the motions familiar and soothing. He struggled to close the door on that train of thought, on all his bitter despairing memories that welled up like blood from a wound.Nick had learned long ago that it was better not to dwell on things he couldn’t change. He and Nora would set out in the morning and hope for the best. It was all they could do.

* * *

_ It’s the most brightly lit, well-equipped cave he’s ever been in. For all that, there is a musk, a dampness that permeates the air. Virgil has made himself a lab to rival many others in the Commonwealth, but there is no disguising the fact that they are surrounded by several tons of opressing earth and stubborn rock. _

_ Their unexpected host has occupied himself with some sort of blueprint - proof of payment, of a sort, Nick supposes - an assurance that Nora had wrangled out of him in the most lawyer-like attitude he’d ever seen from her. While the scientist-turned-super mutant struggles to manage a pencil that is laughably small in his fist, he pulls Nora away, down the tunnel a ways and around the corner, hopefully out of earshot. _

_ The Sea has not been good to her. Her suit has kept the rads at bay, but she hasn’t eaten in nearly two days. It shows. She is paler than usual, deep purple half-moons blooming under her eyes. She follows him sluggishly, letting him lead her by the elbow. “Sit down for a moment, Nora. Please.” _

_ She shakes her head, glancing back towards Virgil, as if she’s afraid he’ll disappear when she’s not looking. “I’m fine.” _

_ He tightens his grip on her arm a tiny bit, enough to get her attention. “You’re not. You’re about to drop, and I’m not going to let you. Sit. Down.” _

_ She blinks at the iron in his voice, perhaps as surprised as he is, and acquiesces slowly. Nick relaxes a bit once she’s off her feet, but the way she’s slumped still worries him. “Thank you.” _

_ “Maybe I am a bit tired,” she murmurs. _

_ He sits on the narrow ledge next to her. “You’re exhausted. You need rest. _ Food_.” _

_ “I’ll be fine.” She sounds as if she is repeating a mantra. Whether it’s for his benefit, or hers, he can’t tell. _

_ “Your body isn’t used to being pushed like this. It’s not going to go well if you keep putting it through the wringer.” _

_ “I know.” _

_ He decides not to push it farther. She’s made her choice, and he honestly can’t think of an alternative. Hard as it is to watch, it’s all he can do. _

_ They sit for a moment. Just around the bend, he can still see Virgil. “Do you believe him?” _

_ She glances up, follows his gaze. “I do.” She sighs, picks absently at the edges of her coat. “Maybe it’s foolish of me, or desperate. Maybe I’m grasping for anything that could lead me to Shaun. But he knows things - or sounds like he does. And I _ want _ to believe him, so much.” _

_ “Maybe that’s all that matters.” He sighs as well, bumps his shoulder lightly against hers. “We’ll take this as we have everything else - one step at a time. Together. No matter where it leads.” _

_ She nods, opens her mouth to respond - but is cut off by a shout from further in, Virgil’s irritated voice calling them back in. He stands, offers her a hand. She takes it, and he pulls her up, gives her a crooked smile. “Come on, lets got see what our mad scientist has cooked up.” _

***

Voices echoed from around the corner - proud and spitting, cold and distant. They reverberate through the hallway, the words indistinct despite their proximity. Nora readied herself, butt of her rifle tucked tightly up against her shoulder. She was panting lightly from their mad sprint up through the building, desperate to catch the Courser before he got what he came for and disappeared into the wind. She glanced at Nick, his bear of a shotgun in his hands, and he nodded back. Another breath to steel herself, and she started moving around the corner.

A sharp, hissing _ crack _ nearly stopped her in her tracks, before she realized the sound of laser fire had come from inside the room. There was a muted thump, and Nora turned the corner, rifle leveled into the room.

A single figure stood within, swathed in a long black coat with a strange sheen. He looked up as they entered the room, face an eerily expressionless mask. In front of him lay the crumpled figure of what looked like a Gunner, the growing puddle of blood beneath him almost black in the dim light. The man raised his gun - a laser pistol, oddly clean and shining - and Nora reacted.

Her shot went wider than she wanted, but it hit his upraised arm in a stroke of luck. The gun dropped from his hand as it spasmed, arm jerking back from the impact. She pulled the bolt, readied the gun to fire again, when he charged. She heard the roar of Nick’s shotgun, but the man didn’t falter. Before she could fire again, he had grabbed ahold of her coat - her wild swing with her rifle missed - and she flew through the air - smacking into a wall, crumpling to the ground.

The pain hit her all at once, thrumming through her blood and muscles. Her head and back were on fire, stars and a creeping darkness edging her vision. She coughed, then gasped for air, suddenly desperate. Somewhere to her right she heard shuffling footsteps, the crashing of something metal to the floor. She rolled, gasping again sharply as the relief of pressure made her back flare again, worse than before. There was movement off to her side, but she ignored it in favor of her rifle. It had flown from her hands, sliding against the far wall. Too far.

Nora clawed her way back to her feet, braced back against the wall. No time to think, to stop shaking. She drew her pistol, took in the eerily quiet room. Nick was across from her, scanning the room, shotgun in hand. The Courser -

Was nowhere to be seen.

In the few seconds it took Nora to try connecting those dots, _ something _ grabbed her by the throat. Its grip was cold iron, unyielding, lifting her off the ground. She choked, mouth open, but no air came to give her relief. Tears welling up automatically, she scrabbled blindly. The dim lights rigged up above her swelled and brightened, a pounding roar building between her ears. Faintly, she heard Nick shout. She kicked her legs out, and they impacted something solid, but the grip on her throat didn’t loosen. Clawing at the invisible force, she managed to get her fingers under some part of it, desperately tugging - when the grip abruptly let go.

She crumpled, head smacking against the wall. Nick was over her, grappling with a ghostly, flickering apparition. Nora kicked out at the figure’s legs, catching it on its ankle. It faltered, and Nick pressed the moment’s advantage, twisting what seemed to be an arm sharply. There was an audible crack, a muffled grunt of pain.

Nora snatched her pistol from the ground and leveled it in front of her. “Nick!”

Nick smashed his forehead into the figure’s - an elbow to the jaw as it flickered into further opacity - then a staggering right hook. He tumbled back several steps, and Nora started firing. One, two, three shots to the center of mass. The figure flickered once more, finally resolving into a long black coat - the Courser was back out in the open, and Nora fired again.

Nick had wrestled his shotgun forward, firing from the hip twice. The Courser stumbled back a step, then another, rocking with the impacts. Rather than reloading, Nick pulled his sidearm, cocking the .44 and advancing as he fired. His shots joined Nora’s, a nearly invisible bouquet blooming across the Courser’s chest as their shots finally ate through his armor.

Nora heard Nick’s revolver click empty just as she scrambled to her feet, a new clip sliding into place. She moved forward, everything stiff and painful and pulling, gun trained on the Courser. The dark figure was hunched, gripping his torso, swaying on his feet. She stopped next to Nick. He thumbed bullets into his revolver without looking away. “Alright?”

“Fine,” she said tightly, unsure of how true it was.

The Courser looked up as they spoke. Grey eyes bored into Nora’s, cold and calculating and unruffled. Without a word, without even a sound, he charged towards her.

Nora shot without even thinking about it. The bullet tore through his throat in the blink of an eye. A crimson spray arced as it hit, spattering the wall. The Courser choked, eyes wide, crumpled like a puppet with cut strings, collapsing to the floor at her feet. A slick pool of dark red began edging out from underneath the body.

The silence was pressing, deafening after the flurry of gunfire. Nora lowered her pistol, trying not to let it shake too much. Nick crouched next to the Courser’s body, feeling for a pulse in his ruined throat. “Shit,” he said quietly. He pushed off his knees, standing up and staring down at the remains. “Whatever I was expecting, that was…worse.” He glanced back at Nora. “We need to get you a knife.”

The strangeness of his statement brough Nora out of her trance. “I have one.”

Nick shook his head. “Not that tiny switchblade you use for eating. A real knife, something you can actually use in a fight.”

Nora cleared her throat. “That’s a nice idea, Nick, but I don’t know how to use one.”

Nick shrugged, waving a hand dismissively. “I’ll get Hancock to give you a lesson. If you’re going to keep getting up close and personal, you’ll need a better backup than your pistol.”

“Wasn’t really intentional,” Nora muttered. Her fingers found her throat, cool against the scraping, throbbing heat.

“Even so.” Nick finally looked up at her properly, a frown spreading across his brow. “You okay?”

“Throat’s on fire. Head’s pounding. Still walking and talking, but it hurts. I’ll survive.”

He stepped over the Courser’s outstretched arm, coming close. His gentle fingers prodded her chin up the tiniest bit. “That’s going to bruise, no doubt about it. Let me see your head.” He turned her, then immediately shrugged off his pack. “Head’s bleeding.”

“Oh.” Once he said it, Nora’s brain snapped the puzzle pieces together, recognized the creeping, matted feeling on the back of her head for what it was.

Nick pulled her towards an overturned filing cabinet and set her down. “Doesn’t look too bad. Small cut. It’s how hard you hit that I’m more worried about.”

He produced a small, off-white woven pad, looking as if it had been stained and bleached several times over. She took it, pressing it to the back of her head. “Go on, I’ll be fine. We need that chip.”

Nick glanced back at the body with a grimace. “Not sure I even know where to start looking for that.”

“Hey idiots!”

They both jumped at the voice, static laced and filtered into the room over some sort of intercom. Nick’s pistol was back in his hands and raised so quickly Nora didn’t even see him draw it. It took them a moment to find the source, a young woman in a sealed-off room to the side. She was glaring at them through the glass barrier, holding a finger to a button on the wall next to her. “Yeah, you, lovebirds! Are you looking for his control chip?”

Nick lowered his gun, but didn’t holster it. He looked mildly affronted, though at what part, Nora wasn’t sure. “What’s it to you?”

“I can help, that’s what. Look, I need out of this room, and you need to know where to find that bastard’s control chip. I’d say we’ve got a pretty good trade here.”

Nick didn't move, his face smoothing into a calm mask. “And how would you know where to find that chip?”

“Because I dug out my own with a knife, that's why,” she said flatly.

Nora froze, barely daring to breathe. Nick's voice was careful, quiet. “You were a Courser?”

“Escapee. Why do you think there was a locked door and fifty guns between me and that dead asshole?” She shook her head, clearly impatient. “Look, the control chips are all in the same spot, even if they are all different. I just need you to let me out of here.”

“How did you get locked in there?” Nora asked, fighting to keep suspicion from her voice.

“The captain locked me in when the Courser started breaking down the doors.”

“And the Gunners?” Nick asked. “How'd you get roped in with them in the first place?”

“I hired them to protect me. For all the good that did me.” She swallowed visibly, eyes darting to the captain's body. “Just let me out or leave me to rot, okay? I'm not in the mood to give a lecture today.”

Nick glanced at Nora, and she shrugged. “Any help is a damn sight better than butchering that corpse for a needle in a haystack.”

“Probably right.” Nick looked back over to the woman. Any weapons in there?”

“No.”

He sighed. “Well alright then. No funny business, you hear me?”

She snorted. “Like I'm stupid enough to tangle with someone who just killed a Courser.”

Nick glanced at Nora again, shaking his head. “I'll take your word for it.” He walked over to the dead Gunner captain and started rifling through his pockets. A few moments later, he produced a tiny scrap of paper. He went to the only terminal in the room, frowning at it, and started typing. Nora checked her pistol, keeping it at the ready, flat on her thigh.

The door hissed open, and the woman slowly emerged, hands held away from her body. Nick nodded towards the Courser’s body, and though her expression didn't change, she visibly paled. It took her a moment, but she walked over to the body and knelt down. “Does one of you have a knife?”

Nick paused, then reached into his boot, drawing a small, wicked looking combat knife. He flipped it over and offered it to the woman handle first. She took it gingerly, turning back to the body. “Help me roll him over.”

Nick moved to the other side, pulling as she pushed the Courser fully onto his stomach. The woman tugged back the high color of the dark coat. “The chip is always going to be up here, got it? At the top of the spinal cord.” She pointed with the tip of the blade. “If you're going to try pulling something off of it - well, good luck, because whatever they have is going to fuck you over - then be careful not to cut any wires or anything. You don’t have to go very deep.” With that, she started cutting into the base of the Courser’s skull.

Morbidly fascinated, Nora slowly hauled herself closer, kneeling down next to the woman. She could just see the burgundy blood slowly oozing from the cuts the woman had made - one down, then across, like a plus sign. The woman handed the knife back to Nick and reached her thumb and index finger into the cuts, her mouth screwing into an expression of distaste. It took her a few moments before she announced, “Got it.”

She tugged, then pulled her fingers out, and with a slick, unpleasant sound, a small piece of metal followed, tiny short wires trailing behind. She plopped it onto the Courser’s back carelessly and started wiping her fingers off on the edge of his coat. “There. For all the good it'll do you.” She pushed herself to her feet. “Now I'm getting out of here before backup shows up.”

“Wait!” Nora said, her voice hoarse. She scrambled to her feet. “You escaped the Institute. Do you know how to get back in?”

The woman stared at her for a moment, then snorted. “Is that what you want that chip for? To get back in? You fuckers really are crazy.” She shook her head. “You teleport in, like everybody else. And good luck trying without that chip in your head.” She jerked her chin at Nick. “And you, scrap metal? I'd steer clear if I were you. Unless you want to be a lab rat again.”

Nick climbed to his feet, dusting off his coat. “What's your name?”

“Does it matter?” she asked, her voice scathing. “I'm just going to change it again the second I'm out that door.”

“It matters,” he said, low and serious.

He didn't elaborate, and in the silence, she hesitated. “Jenny,” she finally said.

A strange expression flashed over his face. Nick held out his hand, and after a long moment, she took it, looking at the way someone might a hungry lion. “Thank you for your help, Jenny. Be careful out there. If you ever need help, find me in Diamond City.”

She looked like she wanted to say something, but stayed silent. She glanced at Nora, at the dead Courser nervously - then turned and left without another word.

Slowly, carefully, Nora lowered herself back down onto the abused filing cabinet. She could faintly hear Jenny's steps getting farther and farther away down the hall, until they disappeared altogether. Nora let out a long, quiet breath, only just realizing the well of pent-up energy that was slowly draining away within her. She pulled the pad away from her head, inspecting it. Deep rust red and burgundy splotches had sunk into it, but nothing bright and crimson. Gingerly, she touched the back of her head with the pad of her finger. It came away a little wet, but mostly tacky. She set the cloth pad aside and started checking her sidearm, reloading it, lingering over a new scrape for a moment. Nick was probably right about getting a knife, although she had never considered it before. It would be good to have something fast and easy at her fingertips.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Nick. While she pretended to be busy with her pistol, he had gone still, staring distantly at the Courser - no, the small chip still lying on his back. There was something strange in his eyes, in the slight furrow of his brow. It looked like thoughtfulness, but it was something more, something familiar. She recognized it, had woken up to it all winter. If she didn't know Nick, she might've said it was fear.

Nora started hauling herself to her feet again, and Nick stirred at the movement, following her gaze. “Oh. Stay there, doll, I'll get it for you.” He crossed the room and snagged her lonesome rifle from the floor.

She accepted it gratefully. “Thanks.” Same as her pistol, it had a few new scrapes and scratches, but nothing major. She tugged on the bolt and to her surprise, an empty shell tumbled out with a light _ ting _as it hit the floor. “Huh. Must've gone off when it hit the wall?”

“Sure did,” Nick said. “Nearly hit the bastard too.” He pulled a beaten old handkerchief from his breast pocket and crouched down, gathering the chip into the old bit of cloth. He folded it up and came over, offering it to her. “Here. To the victor, the spoils.”

Nora coughed, the hoarseness of her throat catching, and tried to pass it off as a laugh. “Team effort.” She reached out, hesitant, wondering if this had all been a fever dream and if she touched it everything would fade away, like ripples in a pond.

Of course, nothing happened. The chip felt even smaller than it looked, wrapped in a now blood-stained handkerchief. It was incredibly delicate, viscerally breakable between her fingers. Her attention was pulled from it by Nick saying, “Maybe so. But you got the last shot in. That means victory to me.” She met his eyes, golden and serious. “ Means we're one step closer.”

Nora looked down again, suddenly breathless. Her eyes stung. The metal of her improvised bench creaked as Nick settled down next to her. She didn't know how long it took for her to find her voice again, but it felt like an eternity. “All this time, it's felt like everything has been happening _ to _ me - like I couldn't stop things or change them. It's felt like a giant wave just came roaring over us all, crashing into everything so hard it washed away all the things I was, all the things I wanted to or could be. Since I woke up I've been either running or waiting - _ helpless _ . I just had to ride it out, _ wait _ for something new to happen. But now, _ this _ \- we did this - no, I did this, and it just feels like everything is changing. I did something, and things _ changed _.”

“You took back your life. Your autonomy,” Nick said quietly. She could only nod. He continued after a moment. “Believe me, I know what it's like to feel helpless. To feel lost.”

Nora couldn't hide the surprise from her face, but he wasn't even looking. Nick stared at his hands, fidgeting with his worn leather gloves. “It sticks with you, until you start to feel as if nothing you do makes a difference, will ever make a difference. It can wear you down, string you out.” He met her eyes. “Don't let it.”

Slowly, carefully, like reaching out to an unfamiliar dog, Nora leaned against Nick, laid her head on his broad shoulder. He was stiff for a moment, before letting out a long sigh, his body relaxing with it. She leaned in further, settling into the welcoming shapes of him. He was warm, the faint scent of bark and tobacco lingering in his coat, and it was oddly comforting. She couldn't say why. There was a light touch on her cold fingers. They opened on pure reflex, and Nick’s leather clad hand slipped into hers.

They sat like that for a long time, breathing in the blessed silence, high on the possibilities of tomorrow. Probably for too long - but Nora was exhausted, and Nick was warm, and tomorrow seemed very far away right then.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again lovelies! The pall of writer's block has lifted in a wonderful frenzy! It's such a relief to be able to get the crap in my head onto paper finally. As always, anyone who suffers through this poorly edited and meandering excuse for character development is a wonderful person - thank you and sincere apologies. I invite you to peruse my other works while you wait out the half-year it will take me to post the next chapter. This work is the second in a series, which itself is a continuation of the Nora Walker story started in Gathering Ice. Thanks for stopping by, and I'll see you again *checks calendar* soon!


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